Being One's Ward
by Mable
Summary: 1, trying to assert himself as Leader again, takes 6 under his wing after catching him being teased. Yet as the day goes on the two spend more time with each other, slowly learning more about one another, and soon find a kinship with one another, but in what way? 1x6, mentions of 7x8.


**Mable: Here's a request fic from a friend of a friend, if you can believe it. ^-^ Well, friend, here's your fic and I hope you like it! I don't own 9, Enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>Being One's Ward<strong>_

There was no point in being Leader again when they refused to follow the old rules. First thing after the Incident when they returned to the Library and Nine turned over the role as Leader to One once again. He told him he wasn't ready and the Leader took up charge somewhat humbly. However, this didn't mean that being a Leader was the same. Seven still refused to stay still, Two and Five still constantly had to go find tools to rebuild, and the twins weren't exactly the proper subjects with how their attention shifted so quickly.

All in all One's rules had become unneeded and not listened to even as he planned to rewrite them. So, of course, he would have to adapt even if it meant getting only a single one of them back under his dictatorship. Maybe once again his words would be taken as more than just rubbish that could be ignored. It was clear to him that he needed to earn his own place once again and prepared to do so one Stitchpunk at a time. He just had to figure out the right way to win the others back into realizing that he had the best intentions as Leader.

It was at this time that he was walking through the Library absentmindedly. He hadn't been aware of what was going on until this point, until he wandered in on it. He heard the confrontation before he circled the stack of books and saw it through the shadow cast of the evening. Even with the many candles that the twins started lighting nightly it still was quite dark inside their new home. It was Six's voice nearly pleading, "No! Not it- Not it, please!" He begged and soon after was Eight's chuckling. It sounded almost sinister and for a second One's general unfazed nature was piqued.

"Come on, it's just a hunk of metal. What could happen if I just dropped it in? It's not like it could rust, could it?" A taunting tone that echoed in Eight's voice and suddenly the Leader was very aware that he was walking in on something that was intentional and not innocent. Then he finally appeared in the area around the pool of water that rested in the center of the library. This is where he found Six and Eight standing in an uncomfortable way. Six stood there pitifully staring at Eight with large, fearful optics while Eight loosely held his key over the edge of the pool.

The scene took One off-guard and he found himself announcing his presence with an, "Eight!" The Guard jumped a little in his own surprise, "Boss?!" before he could deny anything One stormed towards him, growing agitation with every step. As Six started to stumble back out of the way almost fearfully One suddenly felt a bit protective. After all, it was a quite one-sided affair occurring. "What is going on here?" He demanded before pointing towards the key, "And what are you doing with that?" At first Eight looked like he would deny it, but One's firm gaze got out the truth.

"I wasn't really going to do anything, Boss. I was just messing with him." He tossed the key down on the floor by Six, it's sliding to make the rest of the journey to where the striped one dropped to his knees to grab it eagerly. "See? He doesn't care. He'll just go back to drawing like nothing happened." He insisted as Six slipped the key ring over his head and held it securely. For a second he looked up at One before meekly dropping his optics to the floor one again and clutching his key again.

Eight almost had a point; Six had been through plenty of traumatic events and even through them had faded into his own mental world of ink and paper. Perhaps Eight got this belief from One as he remembered quite a while ago referring to the striped one as delusional, but he had been certain he was alone with Two and he distinctly remembered that it had been a fight, even if it was a one-sided one. Two wasn't exactly the best Stitchpunk to fight with as under no circumstance would he get worked into anything more than usual calmness.

This didn't change anything though and he looked back to Eight, "Just because Six ignores your behavior does not make it right! How would you enjoy it if I took away that disgusting magnet that you use for the worst of acts? Badly? Because I have been pondering that for a while and that could very well be why you are committing acts such as this!" He almost felt satisfied in how Eight suddenly looked disturbed by the comment, yet still excused, "But Boss- It's not- He doesn't-!"

"Go stand guard, Eight, just like you are supposed to be doing with the twins are in the courtyard alone but instead ignore to torment others." He hoped he got his message through. He wasn't sure, but Eight looked significantly disturbed that he had gotten a lashing from his Leader, and seemed to hurry on his way. "I don't know where he gets the idea…" One muttered to himself quietly before looking to the Artist who was looking down at the floor where One could now see a drawing was resting, though it looked like it had been stepped on a few times during the dispute.

"How long has this been going on?" He asked first and Six winced a bit. Perhaps the Leader's anger was still evident and that frightened the striped one who quietly answered, "A while…" One noticed the tone and exhaled before forcing himself to calm down and kneeling beside him, "Are you alright?" He asked with as much of a Two tone as possible. To which Six nodded and adjusted his sitting position on his knees a little, "It's okay, I'm okay, Eight's right." He quietly excused and One defended, "No, Six, Eight is not right. He has no right to treat you like that."

He then went more solemn, "But you have already admitted that this is not the first time." Six looked over with sad eyes and neither confirmed or denied the suggestion. "At least tell me when it started. I need to know and I would prefer you tell me, less I have to ask Eight and I doubt he will give me any more than the same answer excusing it." The younger male shifted uncomfortably and for the first time One realized that he had to exert extra patience and sighed a bit before reaching out to put a hand on Six's shoulder which Six looked to in surprise.

To be honest Six wasn't used to being touched. Most of the others just assumed that because he worked on his own he was antisocial by choice, but it was more of a lapse in communication. He feared that they were afraid to touch him as they thought he was dirty or contagious as well. This being the only possible solution in his mind, unable to show that he wanted the attention like everyone else. Yet as the touch of the other's hand laid on his shoulder he felt both a mixture of surprise and a fluttering of happiness, even if it was under the current situation.

"Six, please, I need you to be honest with me." Finally Six was and his head dropped tiredly forward as he admitted, "Eight… he's been doing it a while… A long while, when we first met, but… But I understand. It makes him happy and I can always draw them again." This meant he was purposely damaging the pictures, or at least had before, and One was feeling guilty. He didn't know why as it wasn't he himself who had hurt Six, yet he felt responsible as Eight was his guard and he had never noticed it. "Just because this has been going on for a while does not make it appropriate."

His words were surprisingly soft considering One's normal behavior and Six just stared at him, face changing back to shock once again at the defense. "Do any of the others know?" He nodded slowly, "I… I think so… Maybe Five… Seven too… I'm not sure about Nine." The Leader did ask, "And Two? Does he know?" While One and Two didn't see eye to eye on a lot of subjects, One and Two respected each other well enough. Such as while One found some of Two's habits irritating he trusted him as a good Inventor and did respect most of his ideas.

"No. Two doesn't know." Six insisted and One assumed as much. If Two knew he would've told One and they would have put an end to it, but because it was only Five, who was too quiet for his own good, and Seven, who probably was in her own world, Six was left to fend on his own. "Well I know now." One insisted, taking the role as a good Leader again and putting the arm fully around the younger, "This is the end of it. Eight will not be allowed to do this ever again." With that Six gave an actual smile filled with hope.

It was clear that Six didn't want to continue the bullying. "In fact," One added in, "today you shall be my ward and come with me, so I may be certain that you are not being tormented." The small one alit again and One stood to his feet to lead Six away. He actually offered the striped one a hand which was another first to Six, who assumed everyone was afraid of his large, sharp fingered hands. He wiped one of his hands off on his thigh while smiling a bit, embarrassed as he did so, then reached forward and touched the other's hand hesitantly.

One closed his own as well as he could, ignoring the slight wetness from new ink and merely feeling a stirring interest. Maybe he hadn't expected it to feel like a Stitchpunk's at all, yet it held the same inviting warmth of any hand. Six stood almost hesitantly beside One, awkwardly, still having to look up as he was a good distance shorter than him. Then One released him and turned to move along on his way, beckoning the younger with him. He was pleased to hear the pattering footsteps following his own every inch of the way.

One tried to contemplate what he was supposed to do next, but for whatever reason his mind seemed to focus too much on Six himself. Six was an enigma, his current behavior and reaction to the situation was fascinating to One, how he managed to just deal with the abuse that had been dealt to him. Unlike Seven who took every suggestion as offensive and Nine who had to have everything under his control, both in One's opinion naturally, Six just took it with strength and dignity that One didn't expect him to have.

Again, that just made him strong, that didn't make the situation right, and honestly he was growing more frustrated with Eight. In a sense he saw Eight as his only true companion and had in the past asked the male for manual assistance, but this was unnecessary. He exhaled and looked back to Six who watched him with questioning before One covered with a suggestion. "I doubt anyone has checked the twins today. We will do so. Are you alright with that?" The shorter nodded, his eagerness triggering a tug at the corners of One's mouth.

They silently continued into the study where the twins were working on their own devices. As he entered he could see the lift swinging around and the twins lowered themselves back down beside their book where they hopped off to the books stacked below. The Leader looked around, hands folded behind his back as he looked through the twins' things while Six was more focused on the items resting on the lift. Clearly he could see an inkwell waiting on the lift and was interested in it.

The twins hurried to One, surprised to see him there, and one was willing to grasp his arm and attempted to drag him over towards their book. "I can walk just fine on my own." He reminded somewhat quietly, trying not to directly upset the younger Stitchpunks but not exactly enjoying being grappled and drug around. The twins either didn't hear him or weren't paying attention as they led him to their book and pointed upwards at their new page. He looked upwards and scanned it over only to not that it was made of a mixture of relatively unrelated pictures on first glance.

First was a woman with hair of serpents standing in a seductive pose that looked to be cut from a book. Beside it was a picture of a doll from a catalogue or newspaper article, dressed in an extravagant dress and dolled with large, dark eyelashes. Then, beneath both, was a large scrap of paper with a sketch that the leader assumed was a Seamstress and recognized as Six's work. "You drew this?" He asked even though he knew as a way to invite Six back into the conversation. Six was over at the lift now and One watched as his slipped while trying to take the inkwell off.

It slipped and a small splash of ink went onto Six's chest and key before he let it drop to the floor simply. Thankfully it didn't tip and Six dabbed at the new stain briefly before hurrying over. "I did." He pointed out almost proudly, "The first night after… After what happened I had to draw something. So I drew the Seamstress. Maybe someday other Stitchpunks can use it if any other Seamstresses come?" One stared at him, memorizing his wording, but was interrupted by Six's new question, "Who's that?"

He pointed towards the picture of the woman and One looked before speaking, "Medusa. She is a goddess, or, more like, she is one of the beings that many years ago humans believed in. There have been many adaptations; but she is known to either hypnotize, seduce, or turn her victims to stone just with her gaze…" He paused for a second before looking to the twins, "Hmm… Very insightful of you two." Unlike his feelings towards some of the others, One was starting to consider the twins quite a bit more intelligent than they seemed.

The twins' optics flickered as they went into frenzy of explanation about how they came to a conclusion. One was being as patient as possible but was growing weary of this, especially as he noticed Six's new stain. His mind came with a clever plan to escape while still seeming like he was a caring and supportive Leader. "That will stain if we don't get it cleaned." One insisted before looking to the twins, "We may be back later, but it is going on nighttime. If we are not remember not to stay awake late." Both of the twins nodded and One led Six abruptly away.

Six was a little confused as they stepped out, "I'm… I'm a little confused." He pointed out and One explained, "We could spend all night attempting to decode the twins, and in a short amount of time you will have another stain, which we do not want. It's high time that you get a proper cleaning." The Artist smiled for a second before asking again, walking beside him a little less shy than before, "I mean, why? Why are you taking me to get cleaned?... I just… They're just stains. They don't really matter." Though his tone betrayed more; he was really trying to say that nobody else had given the effort.

One scoffed to himself; they were so busy with their menial and simplistic tasks that they weren't even helping Six with the simplest of acts. If Six didn't know how to properly wash then he couldn't help himself and the others weren't as busy as they should have been. Even One was able to devote time to Six and with every passing second he was starting to find it easier and more enjoyable. Six listened to him with no strings attached, just glad to receive the attention he needed, and he again rested a hand on the other's back.

"What I said earlier still stands. For today you are my Ward and any Ward of mine is going to be both content and clean." Another smile from Six who looked towards One with a growing fondness, "Thank you… I'm glad you made me yours." Something about Six's choice of wording stirred something in One's chest, but he pointedly ignored it. Six was an innocent youth who didn't know anything about being someone's significant other and the Leader shoved the thought towards the back of his mind. Only willing to briefly asking himself why one of the others hadn't felt romantic feelings towards the tender male.

Perhaps it was the sympathy talking, he assumed, as he still felt guilty about Eight's actions. They arrived at the pool in the back of the Library where One made a line to the shallow end where he gestured for Six to get in. The Artist was hesitant, clutching his key tightly, but trusted One as he stepped in, slipping in waist deep. His body broke into convulsions as he reacted to the much lower temperature. "It's cold." He pointed, "I-I can't- I don't think I can stay in." He tried to coax, but One would have none of it, "You will feel better once this is off of you."

He kneeled down on the marble and tried to rub at the new stain even though they were lacking soap. If there was one thing One missed from the Cathedral it was bathing. They would warm collected rainwater over the cauldron and then pour it into a basin in the back room. He could remember those satisfying days of relaxing in the warm water, actually having soap shavings to use to clean himself, and thinking about it made him miss his home once again. "One? Are you okay?" Six asked through the hand rubbing at his chest.

One almost voiced his troubles until he remembered that Six hadn't ever gotten the pleasures of a freshly drawn bath. Instead he decided to spare him, "I'm fine." Maybe Six's fabric was stain resistant because it seemed that all of the stains were slowly coming off. "What in Creation?!" One asked as the water around him turned black from the excess ink, "When was the last time you bathed?" The Artist paused briefly, "It was… I think Two was there, it was a long time ago…" He then smiled as he added in playfully, "I can almost see my stripes again."

A small flare of warmth emerged at Six's newfound comfort with One. The Leader was proud of the progress the Artist had made; going from a near mute invalid to a pleasant and friendly Stitchpunk only in some amount of time. He guided Six back, "Let me get your yarn, then we will stop." As he leaned him back and dipped his head further into the water he felt Six begin to shiver again. After all, as One glanced towards the windows he realized that it was falling into evening, which meant that it was most likely getting colder.

He still scrubbed at Six's yarn and, shockingly, the ink came free like Six's fabric, which One assumed had been treated by the Scientist with something significant. This is when he noticed something else significant, "Your yarn is gray. Peculiar, I thought it was a dark brown or faded black." Again Six smiled, though this was more of a 'grin and bear it' smile as the Artist didn't look too pleased, "I know. It's always been like that." He then added in with an exhale, "It makes me look old." One made an amused scoffing noise, "Now Six you are the last Stitchpunk who should be fearing age."

"Oh, no, I mean-." His face furrowed in sudden worry as he realized his slip, "I didn't mean that being older was wrong." One seemed relatively unoffended, "I am perfectly content with my age, Six. I have been this age since I was born and as such I am not getting old, I was just born aged." At this Six asked, "Does it bother you being older?" One paused to contemplate it before continuing to rub Six's scalp, a bit softer now, "Not exactly. Though I do wonder if my age I why the others refuse to listen. Perhaps if Nine and I were at the opposite sides of the spectrum it would be different."

At this Six squirmed in discomfort, "I don't know… But I don't think that Nine should always be listened to." The sudden change in tone alerted the Leader who raised a brow in questioning. Six explained without and encouragement. "They act like Nine knows everything, but he doesn't. He only knows when someone tells him. I told him over and over what he had to do, but he waited and waited. Then when he did, everyone thought he was the savior. They didn't care that I told him; they just think he found it out on his own. He's the savior and I'm the freak."

"Don't call yourself that." One instructed, listening to the other's plight. Honestly he expected to be listening to him prattle on aimlessly without paying much mind. Yet the more Six said the more One himself found himself growing frustrated, and oddly protective. He couldn't fathom why they weren't giving Six as much attention as he was. "But it's true. They don't think of me as anything more." He pitifully admitted and One found himself ruffling the younger's yarn in a parental way. Or, at least, it was supposed to be parental, but the sigh that left Six's lips sounded anything but innocent.

One cursed himself, _"Get it together, you old fool! These thoughts are unnatural, and absolutely repulsive! He trusts me to be his ally, his only protector, and I-." _He cut off when Six abruptly added in, "And I know." The Leader suddenly paused, trying to hide any sort of panic, "You know what?" The Artist looked upwards from the water before leaning in just a bit. If One didn't feel uneasy before then now he definitely was as the smaller murmured lowly, "He does it for her. Everything Nine does is for Seven… That's why I don't tell him how I feel."

Now One knew that was a complete lie. Six didn't tell him how he felt because he was afraid to outright approach anyone and One now knew why with this Eight incident. Six's knowledge wasn't nearly as incorrect, "I have noticed." He responded with a scoff, "and so has she. I always knew she would only find a mate if it was one that she could find use from." A casual insult before Six looked a little downcast, leaning on the marble edge, "But then I feel bad… Because he likes her a lot and she's with Eight."

Immediately One made the oddest sputtering noise imaginable, "What?!" He demanded, standing immediately, "You must be mistaken!" Six flinched back a bit before meekly speaking, "I… No… I've seen them. Seven and Eight are… I'm sorry." He said softly and One was still in alarm, "You should not be sorry! There are seven others, two of which being the ones in particular, and nobody else felt the need to tell me?! My own Guard- I cannot trust him with anything anymore! Mating with- with Seven!"

Six looked a little amused, "No, no. They were just kissing." As though he knew what One was implying and the male growled, "That doesn't matter." The striped one went silent and One mentally reminded himself that he had to be careful around the younger. Though it was more the wrench in his core that reminded him than the mental tap of reminding. "Six, I am not upset with you, so don't get that look." The Artist straightened, but still seemed disturbed and One found the pounding reminders and inner wrenching to continue. He had to hold his temper less their progress deteriorate.

"It is getting late. You should come out before it gets any colder." He instructed and Six nodded before pulling himself out. He shivered quite a bit and before One knew what he was doing he drew off his cape. It wasn't exactly the old cape that he had lost at the Cathedral, more like a shred of fabric found left behind that was sewed to some newer red fabric, but it was still One's cape and was very important. So he didn't understand why he was planning to use it on Six who also felt the need to ask, "Your cape?"

"You'll get chilled elsewise." The Leader convinced both the Artist and himself as he wrapped his cape around Six's shoulders, rubbing it gently in to dry and watching as Six's face alit in a smile and smiling back. He ruffled the cloth almost playfully before noticing the window once again. "When was the last time that you slept? Be honest with me." He coaxed and Six exhaled tiredly, "A little last night." A little could only mean a couple of minutes and One started to lead him away towards his room.

Once Six was in bed he could get some time alone where he could straighten himself out, as this growing affinity for the Artist was somewhat troubling. Six's room was alongside the others that were partially built into a wall and partially build into a bookcase, surrounded by a tarp and filled with half-filled inkwells that the others had found and given to him. At first he thought that Six's corner was filled with a bundle of drawings, but when he noticed a lack of bed he realized what it was supposed to be.

"That is your bed?" He asked in disturbance and Six looked to the bunch of ink stained paper before crossing over and pulling off some of the papers, revealing a more proper bed underneath. It was still remarkably pitiful looking and One huffed, "I can see why you are failing to get a proper night's sleep. Come with me, you can spend the night in my bed." Six seemed unsure, "I don't think I should…" He managed to get out and One shrugged it off, "It's fine. Come along." Yet Six insisted, "No, One… I'll… I'll wake you…"

The first night that Six screamed of a nightmare he had learned that the others weren't as pleased to be awaken. One himself had been one of the ones warning the others that Six would alert of their location and since then he had slept alone and as far from the others as possible. The only reason this room was so close was because they were still building, but Six himself planned to soon move his sleeping quarters away where he couldn't be heard. It was nice on the occasional nights when Two or Five would comfort him, but most of the time in only led to sympathy looks that made him uncomfortable.

"It will do you good." One insisted as he led the younger back to his own room. It was another curtained in area but was put together nicer, with stacked spools of thread as a side table and some sort of small box filled with plush blankets and pillows to make a bed. It looked comfy and Six was actually excited to lay down in it. One pulled down the covers and gestured for Six to lay down before reaching upwards to pull off his crown, which had now been made out of a decorated piece of cardboard as he hadn't had time to make anything better.

Six hesitantly sat down on the bed before laying on his side to face One who also lay down. He quickly pulled the covers to his neck and tried not to feel as uncomfortable as he was. He suddenly regretted bringing Six in here. He felt surprisingly unease and much too interested in what Six was doing. Finally he decided to speak and asked, "What did you mean earlier? Your reasoning for creating the drawings, for other Stitchpunks? Do you believe there are others out there?" Six clearly didn't want to send the others on a wild goose chase and explained.

"I… I meant like… What if… What if we created more?" The Leader paused before offering, "Created more Stitchpunks? That's impossible." The Artist insisted, "Not really. We could make small Stitchpunks. Children. We could have children." He then sputtered to add in, "I don't mean us, our children! I-I just meant…" One made a noise of dismissal, mostly because he was trying to avoid the mental image of Six and him attempting to have children, "Six, you are a child. You shouldn't be thinking such thoughts."

He rolled over towards the younger and put a comforting arm around the smaller one, pulling him closer. There was a need to do so and One couldn't deny that he enjoyed holding the smaller one close to him. To have someone else with him when he usually slept alone was much nicer, especially when it was someone who he was starting to slowly grow fonder of the small one. This went beyond trying to be a good Leader and win favor; Six was unspoken, but had a vast amount of thoughts and ideas that intrigued One a bit too much.

"I'm not a child." Six quietly stated as he flinched at One's hold. The Leader started to pull back and there was a protest, "No, don't! I like it." One did so, now becoming confused until he abruptly felt the younger male slide closer and press against the belts on his front. "One… Nobody else has ever done this before… Has spent this much time with me for no reason unless I had a nightmare or saw something. Why did you?" He looked a bit sad as he pressed tighter to the other male's front, "You didn't just do it because you felt bad for me, did you?"

For a second One pondered this, pondered what he should say, and Six waited patiently. Now that One contemplated it he suddenly decided to go with what he knew was honest, "At first, Six, I brought you with me to protect you. But that is not why I continued to spend the day with you. I continued to spend the day with you because I realized that I was enjoying our time together. Six, you may not realize it, but I do not receive much socialization either." He wouldn't admit to sounding forlorn, but he was bothered, "Perhaps you do not realize that the others think poorly of me?"

"One, no…" Six insisted, but One responded firmly, "Six, they only approach me when they absolutely have do. All of them, save Two, think I am a monster. Even Eight may as well say he learned his behaviors from myself and while I will admit my faults, unlike some, I know their opinions will not change." He paused, "I must say it is refreshing to have someone who has not been judging me on what happened some time ago." The striped one gave a small smile, "You're not a monster. You've been so good to me… I'm glad you made me your ward."

One felt a little smile emerge and he moved one arm to rest on his striped cheek, mentally insisting that it was a platonic motion. It was growing on him; every word Six spoke sound so sincere and he held the other closer, protecting him with his own arms and shielding him from whoever or whatever could come after him. "But I'm not a child, One. I'm not young and you're not old, we're not different, and I… I want to spend every day like today. If you're alone and I'm alone, can't we do that?"

One's mind raced in protest, _"The others are going to say that I'm taking advantage of him, of course. It would be foolish to agree to this. I would lose what little respect I have yet." _However he then defended, "_But he is certain… He couldn't mean anything other than us being together as mates. He is correct, he is not a child and he should have the ability to judge whether or not he wants this." _With that he caught underneath Six's chin and angled him upwards before pressing his lips to Six's own. The striped one gasped and One was immediately taken by how warm and soft Six's lips felt.

"_I am the leader. I should be able to choose who I want to mate with; they are always so stubborn with being able to do what they please, why can I not do so as well?" _Six was kissing back against the Leader. It was awkward and clearly his first, but One guided him through it, and only pulled back after he was certain fifteen or sixteen seconds had past. "Six," He started in a quiet in sincere tone, hoping he didn't startle the younger in any way, "if that is what you are certain of, Six, then perhaps we can just ignore what the others think and be together not as leader and ward, but as something more."

Six asked with a smile, "Maybe just as ourselves?" One hesitated, "Yes, I suppose that would work as well. Either way, we will not spend another night alone." The striped one smiled and pressed into the Leader again, burying his face into his buckles and One held him. The older pressed his lips to the younger male's freshly cleaned yarn and murmured against it, "Get some rest, Six. I will be here for you." He knew he hadn't yet proclaimed his adoration, but there was no doubt that Six felt it, and he swore to say it as soon as he figured out the best way of doing so.

For now he would just hold the other and somewhat hope they understood. Elsewise he would have to sacrifice his duty as leader, not that they listened to him as a leader much anyway. If they didn't he always supposed the honorable thing to do would be to remind the others of how delicate a situation it was.

He would especially remind Eight and Seven about the value of mating. He would enjoy it immensely and he would have to thank Six later.

_**FIN**_

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><p><strong>Mable: I hope it didn't end up rushed… It turned out a lot longer than expected, still. I hope everyone enjoyed!<strong>


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